


Garden Boy

by Maka_Ora



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bullying, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Plants, accidental murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maka_Ora/pseuds/Maka_Ora
Summary: They called him garden boy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of poetic, I guess. Different from how I usually write, but I hope you guys like it.

They called him garden boy.  
He loved flowers, and was always covered in them. Daisies in his hair, roses pinned to his shirts, lilies peeking out of his pockets, clovers and daffodils tied around his wrists.

They called him garden boy.  
His smile made flowers bloom in mid-winter and his accented Korean could make even the driest seeds grow.

They called him garden boy.  
He reminded people of Baby's Breath. Because he was soft and fragile. Because he was pure.

They called him garden boy.  
Because no one bothered to remember his name.

* * *

Yixing was known only as garden boy to most. The boy with flowers in his hair and stars in his eyes. He spent his time in the school's greenhouse, nurturing his flowers.  
Yixing didn't mind his nickname. He didn't mind the stares and hushed whispers that followed him through the halls. He didn't mind the insults thrown at him daily.

_'That's him, the garden boy.'_

_'Faggot.'_

_'Pussy.'_

_'Fucking cocksucker is what he is.'_

Words didn't bother him. He'd heard them so many times that they'd lost their meaning.

He didn't like confrontation. He didn't want to hurt anyone, didn't want to disappoint them. So he learned to live with the insults and the punches.

* * *

They called him garden boy.  
Because bruise bloomed like flowers in his alabaster skin.

* * *

"Who is that?"

Yixing had never heard a voice like that.

"We call him garden boy," a higher voice said. "I don't even know his real name. No one talks to him."

"Garden boy?"

That voice sounded like flowers blooming.

"He loves flowers. He's always in the greenhouse." The higher voice sounded like withered petals.

"I'm going to talk to him."

The boy with the blooming voice approached Yixing, smiling a wide smile, showing all thirty teeth.

"Hi, I'm Park Chanyeol," the boy said, still smiling widely. "I'm new here."

"I'm Zhang Yixing," Yixing said in a soft, floaty voice. "Nice to meet you, Chanyeol."

"I heard there's a greenhouse here," Chanyeol said. "Could you show me sometimes? I was president of the Garden Club back at my old school, and I kind of miss being around plants."

"I can show you," Yixing said, nodding. "Meet me here at lunch."

"I'll be here," Chanyeol smiled again before rushing off to his next class.

Yixing felt flowers blooming in his stomach.

* * *

They called him garden boy.  
His heart was a rosebud, waiting to bloom.

* * *

Yixing thought that it was funny that Chanyeol's favourite plants were cacti.

After that first day, Chanyeol had spent more and more time in the greenhouse with Yixing. Now amongst his fragile flowers, are strong cacti.

It was funny, because Chanyeol loved something so different from himself. Chanyeol was so soft and open and welcoming. And his favourite plants were sharp and spiny and warned people away.

"Why do you like cacti?" Yixing asked one day as they repotted the Aloe Vera.

Chanyeol thinks for a moment. "They're resilient, hyung."

"Resilient?"

Chanyeol nodded. "They can go weeks, sometimes even months without water. They survive deadly heat and fierce cold. They need so little to live. They're strong, hyung."

Yixing is quiet.

"Sometimes, I wish I was a cactus," Chanyeol whispered.

Yixing did, too.

* * *

They called him garden boy.  
And his rosebud heart began to bloom.

* * *

Chanyeol reminded Yixing of the tiny flowers that appear at the very beginning of spring. Everywhere, but almost no one notices. But Yixing always noticed the tiny flowers.

"Does it ever bother you?" Chanyeol asked, potting tulip bulbs. "Being called 'garden boy'?"

"There are worse things to be called," Yixing said.

_Faggot._

_Pussy._

_Cocksucker._

"But does it bother you?"

 _Sometimes_ , Yixing thought. But he shakes his head and changes the subject. "The carnations are coming in next week."

* * *

They called him garden boy.  
But they called his Chanyeol much worse names.

* * *

Yixing was never bothered by the insults directed at him.

But when they were directed towards his Chanyeol, he felt rose thorns in his veins.

_"Did you hear why he came here?"_

_"He got kicked out of his old school."_

_"I heard he killed someone."_

* * *

They called him garden boy.  
Because he was fragile. But they forgot that poisons grow in gardens, too.

* * *

"It's true," Chanyeol said one day while he pruned the rose bushes.

"What is?" Yixing replied.

"That I killed someone," Chanyeol said. The younger boy looked up to see the other's reaction.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Yixing asked, clapping his hands to shake the soil away.

"Not here," he said. Yixing nodded.

* * *

 

They called him garden boy.  
But he was no longer the most fragile.

* * *

"It was an accident," Chanyeol whispered. It was late, and they laid on the trampoline in Yixing's back yard.

"I believe you," Yixing said, tracing constellations with his eyes.

"We were in the Garden Club together, and we'd just planted Hemlock. It was supposed to be the nonpoisonous species, because we were doing a personal study on plants to see which could be used to make tea," Chanyeol said. "But they sent us the wrong type. And we didn't know until after he drank the tea. I didn't drink any because after handling the plants, I had an allergic reaction. I was under surveillance for two years."

Yixing didn't know what to say. So, he turned on his side to face Chanyeol, and pulled the younger boy into his arms.

* * *

 

They called him garden boy.  
They called him many things, but nothing hurt him like the names they called his Chanyeol.

* * *

"Be careful, Garden Boy," a boy said as Yixing walked past. "You might be Hemlock's next victim."

"You could be my first," Yixing snapped, shoving the boy and storming to the greenhouse.

"You shouldn't do that," Chanyeol said as Yixing hugged him from behind. "They'll target you. I'm a big boy, hyung. I can handle this."

Yixing stayed silent, planting kisses on Chanyeol's shoulders and neck.

* * *

 

They call him garden boy.  
But they call his Chanyeol, Hemlock.

* * *

Chanyeol got beat for the first time in December.

Yixing kissed Chanyeol's bruises and cuts and taped his broken glasses back together.

But the frames are never the same. Broken things never are.

* * *

 

They called him garden boy.  
But his Chanyeol was the one covered in flowers.

* * *

Chanyeol's glasses broke over and over and over again. Yixing stopped fixing them and Chanyeol got contacts.

"At least this way, glass won't cut my face anymore," Chanyeol said, hugging Yixing from behind.

Yixing didn't know how he handled it.

To be honest, he still doesn't.

* * *

 

They called him garden boy.  
But his Chanyeol called him flower.

* * *

"My flower hyung!" Chanyeol exclaimed, running down the stairs of his house. Chanyeol's mum smiled at Yixing.

"So you're the flower boy Chanyeol always talks about," she said, smiling. Yixing likes flower boy much better than garden boy.

"I'm Yixing, yes," he said, bowing politely. "Thank you for inviting me to dinner."

Chanyeol smiled widely, the same smile he'd had when they first met.

* * *

 

They called him garden boy.  
Because he was fragile. Not anymore.

* * *

"Oh my, god, Yixing!"

Yixing did not expect Chanyeol's mother to call him screaming at three in the morning.

"Yixing! Oh my God,Yixing!" She screamed and cried wordlessly into the phone.

"I'll be right there," Yixing said.

He'd never been as scared as he was for the ten minutes it took him to run to Chanyeol's house.

When Yixing arrived, his Chanyeol is already loaded on a stretcher. His mom cried loudly as her son convulsed.

Yixing couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Surely, Chanyeol didn't...

No. He wouldn't.

Would he?

* * *

 

They called him garden boy.  
Because he was always surrounded by pretty flowers. Now, only dead leaves keep him company

* * *

At the funeral, there was only a handful of people. Yixing, Chanyeol's mom, and three boys named Baekhyun, Jongin, and Sehun.

"I'm Baekhyun," the shortest boy said. His voice is rough and thick. Filled with tears. Yixing can relate. "You must be Yixing."

Yixing nodded, unable to take his eyes off of the picture of Chanyeol. It was from months ago, when Yixing was still garden boy.

"Chan... Chanyeol talked about you a lot," Baekhyun said. "Said you had a rosebud heart."

"I did." _Once_. Not anymore.

"He really loved you," Baekhyun continued.

Did he? Then why did he leave?

"I love him, too. He was my Chanyeol. My Chanyeollie."

Yixing never liked crying in front of people, so he excused himself, silently promising Chanyeol that he'd come back later.

* * *

 

They called him garden boy.  
But now his garden is dead.

* * *

Yixing comes to Chanyeol late at night, when no one can see him cry, or hear him scream. He yells at a lot of things. God, Satan, Chanyeol, himself.

He begs a lot, too. Pleading with God to take him or bring Chanyeol back. He offers Satan his soul. But they never answer.

Some nights, he talks like Chanyeol is there. He imagines Chanyeol replying with a wide grin and a voice that makes flowers bloom.

But all the flowers are dead.

* * *

 

They called him garden boy.  
But garden boy died long ago.

 


End file.
